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Footsteps And Thunder (Second Part) I woke to the sound of whispers, one sounded like an old man the other was unidentifiable. At first I though they were laughing until I heard the other voice say "Tell me where she is". I shivered, Now the voice was closer it seemed much familiar. The rain had now cleared. My shoulder ached from leaning against the inner wall of the boat. I crawled over to a hole in the wall and could jus about see out. It wasn't much use, it was getting quiet dark, the sky was misty, the whole thing reminded me of an old tale father would tell me, about a beautiful young girl who when dusk came she would become a swan. I missed father a lot, I was much closer to him than anyone like Rose, he was my favourite expedition partner, actually he was my only partner. What time was it? I absolutely knew it wasn't past eight because tonight it was a full#moonand it hadn't reached the tree line yet. If i'd left at around five id've been gone for at least 2 and a half hours! I had to get home before Mother or Rose came looking for me. I scuttled under the boat to find no one around, I kept walking until i saw a hunched over silhouette with another glaring over it. My eyes drew straight towards to what the taller man was holding, a very thin sharp knife. The memories came flowing back, the stories of father hanging in the stocks. What I saw next was outrageous, the young man stabbed the knife into the old man without hesitation. I stumbled forward, unable to steady myself and fell, I landed on an old stick, making the deathly cracking sound which I really could've done without. I saw the man turn in my direction, as soon as I had fallen I was back on my feet, legging it back towards the village. And that's where I am now, running like hell from some unknown murderer and in a direction I could only guess. A sudden crack of thunder hit the tree line in front of me.

Footsteps And Thunder "One, two, one, two. you can't loose focus now Luna" I was was saying myself. His footsteps like thunder behind me. My lungs began to burn, it felt as if my stomache was set on fire. I just kept running, through the trees, thier long, tall, spiky shadows looking over me. I knew the woods well, I had fathers sense to know where I was, and where I needed to go, as of the trees would speak to me with thier whispery breezy voices. ***** It started a calm, pleasant day. I was helping Rose, my sister with the washing, there was no sign of a breeze or even clouds. The sun shone right through everything in its path. " Rose!" I called She looked in my direction. "I'm going out, tell mother!" As I pulled on my coat I kissed fathers urn and carried on throught he front garden. The woods was darker today, dispite the weather. I followed the usual path towards the lake, the birds whistled to me as I passed, and when I reached the old boat I felt something cold on my shoulder. Rain. "Today!" I questioned, looking up at the sky, still as blue as ever. In about three minuets flat it was full on showers and I crawled under the old boat, to seek shelter. I had my stock of water and biscuits in my pocket and used the old bucket as a chair to keep me off the wet ground, the boat brought back so many memories of when me and father used to go on trips down the river, he'd always have his fishing rod and I'd bring my net, sometimes we'd catch a big fresh water bass or something but I'd never been able to since he had died. When we found out father had been caught in the woods In Sunday we weren't shocked, he had always broken the rules, but to be caught was a whole new matter. You see you are only allowed in the woods on weekdays, if you were caught after midnight on a Friday you we're assumed to be thieving. The stock house was on the other side of Marlick, North Marlick. On weekdays, after you had received your ticket you can go and pick up your rations from the stock house, on weekends, no body was there, to give or guard the food. Father was executed and hung in front of the whole village except Rose and Mother and I. The only thing we got back were his ashes. I hadn't entered the woods until now, Friday the 18th of February 1830. And it hadn't changed one little bit, even the river ran the same. As the water therapeutically hit the roof of the boat I found my self nodding off the sleep. ------------------------ 5 ❤'s for next chapter xx

Anything's Possible (Chapter 2) And then he came back ----------------------------- It wasn't a shock when he arrived standing at my door, by this time I was eighteen and studying photography at Cambridge. Id received letters asking for forgiveness, death threats and even checks but id never reacted to it all. It was about three in the morning when I answered the door, his tall, lanky figure hovered on the steps, I questioned who was there and then it was over all too soon, my neck was in his grip and I knew this wouldn't end nicely, the one thing I had known was not to struggle. All I wanted was to sleep, I didn't care if I never woke after, but I just wanted to drift nicely in to bed. Then I was dead, well at least my body was, my spirit wouldn't die, I felt I wasn't finished in that #life and that I would not be able to leave until I had fulfilled my aspirations. So that's where I am now, deciding what to do with my #life, or after#life even. I saw the news, dad was caught and arrested, the court case would come up next week, and it seemed as mother was also murdered, the house was empty, and a horrible mess. And then I cried, it was the first time in fourteen years I'd cried. It felt amazing, Like a plug had be pulled, and there was the one feeling I never felt, empty. Things were getting there.

Anything's Possible (Chapter 1) I thought he was gone, I never expected his long dark face would return to haunt my dreams but anything's possible, as mother would say. I was fifteen when he left, the grey suitcases left by the door, the office empty and his music gone. I was happy, but I couldn't show it, force of habit I supposed. I learned to hide my emotions at a young age, I suppose my ambitions flew out the window at around the same time in my #life. I would never become a dancer, my dad worked in chippy, according to mother, but this never seemed right as I had realised long ago whenever her was home be was blatantly drunk off his head and Mother was a part time nurse. She was a larger lady, she was humble and knew how to cheer anyone up but there was a down side to all this, she could never stand up for herself. My dad was a sick man, he had no respect for girls and fucked-up everything in his #life by the age of twenty-five. He had a three year-old daughter a young wife and no job. As I got older he spent time in prison and it was just Me and mother, I didn't mind it but she just cried. There were some nights I couldn't remember but could feel something different about me. Then the were other nights where I woke with his hands on my chest and then there were times he would just rape me. He left because mother was ill, she was 'too much to handle' and he said and I was old enough to care for myself. It wasn't fair but it was better. Then he returned for me.